


cycles

by VibrantVenus



Series: Nonexistent Fandoms [7]
Category: Russian Doll (TV 2019)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, a little ooc, i really liked this show, one kiss to be exact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18876436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VibrantVenus/pseuds/VibrantVenus
Summary: They take it day by day. It just takes a bit of time to readjust.or, a night, a kiss, and a shared declaration of not being okay.





	cycles

   In the end, they go back to her apartment together, share the bed. It's less of a sexual thing and more of an almost instinctual need to make sure they both survive the night. That the both of them make it to Tuesday. It's a struggle to close her eyes, but she does eventually, one hand clutching Alan's in the dark. She's afraid of waking up in the bathroom again, or worse, waking up in that awful universe where she'd finally succeeded, and Alan didn't even recognize her.

   She feels Alan squeeze her hand, and he asks quietly, his voice barely a murmur, "Are you okay?"

   She laughs, and it's a nice laugh she thinks, low and raspy and such a stretch from that little girl dutifully carrying watermelons into the trunk of her mother's car. 

   "Man, I don't think I'll ever be okay again."

   And it's the truth. After dying that many times, the fact she's even approaching  _sane_ is almost an achievement.

   He laughs and...she finds she kinda likes his laugh too. It's not something she normally notices in a guy, not something she'd really cared about before, but then again, this isn't a situation she can just flirt her way out of. This is...fate, or destiny, whatever the fuck.

   He says, "yeah I get that," and for a while, there's only silence. His thumb rubbing small circles into her hand. It's comforting, and a part of her hates it. She stomps it down into nonexistence. 

   In the morning she can question this, can pick it apart and put it back together, and puzzle it over with a cigarette, but for now, there's no room for it. Right now she's content to just lay down, and be quiet. 

   For awhile, they doze, flinching back to consciousness whenever there's a noise just slightly too close for comfort. Eventually, she gives up on the pretense of sleep, and rolls onto her back, hand still latching onto Alan's. It's desperate.

    _Needy,_ the bitter little voice in her head whispers. 

   She feels more than sees Alan sit up in the dark, and she can just make out his figure hovering above her, and for a moment she thinks of one night of shared intimacy,  one night, three deaths. For a moment, she  _wants._

When he kisses her she thinks,  _yeah, he gets it._

   His lips are warm, and when he lies back down beside her, shoulder to shoulder, his legs intertwined in her own, she finally falls asleep.


End file.
